Wrecked Past
by Ana Gray
Summary: Raina Fray is an ordinary sixteen year old girl living a Brooklyn life with her sister and friend, Simon Lewis. When one night changes all, there's no way out of her future. Raina's destiny is upon her. Rated T for strong language and violent scenes.
1. Chapter 1

**Fact: I do not own TMI or any of the characters.**

**Fact: I do own Raina Fray.**

**Fact: When I said I was only going to work on one story at a time, I wrote this today and... well, there's no way out. **

**Hope you enjoy! I think you can guess who Raina looks like ;)**

* * *

Chapter #1

Generally, Pandemonium… was, well, pandemonium. No joke. On the weekends it was horribly busy and sometimes even worse on the weekdays. Genuinely, I stuck out like a sore thumb – I was practically a shadow, because I was a dark person. I was wearing all black. The only thing that people liked about me was my hair, but even my eyes didn't match them – my eyes were a soft brown, and normally people with fair hair like mine had blue eyes. Well, not me. I look nothing like my sister – I had fair hair, practically white, and dark brown eyes which were almost black while Clary had bright red hair and stunning emerald eyes. I was taller than her which I liked – she was five feet two, I was five feet seven, which I liked. A lot.

Simon, our friend, was standing in between us, hands in pockets, swaying back and forth awkwardly. He stuck out even worse – he looked more like he was on the way to chess club than contemplating the powers of darkness.

"I, for one, am enjoying myself immensely," Simon stated to us, as he brushed his hand in Clary's. Even through the flashing lights, I could tell she was immediately blushing. I looked away to the other side of the dance floor, quieter, no doubt, but you would still have to weave through multiple people in the crowd. I drew my eye to a stunning girl; her eyes were as black as charcoal, her hair fell nearly to her waist. She was wearing an elaborate, beautiful white dress, accompanied by a pulsing ruby around her neck. It was precious… and then the girl was being followed by a blue-haired boy who looked like he was in a trance. His eyes were as soft as spring grass but they were the colour of anti-freeze – brighter than Clary's emerald ones, even. Suddenly, as the girl and boy went into the storage room, they were being followed by two hooded figures. One pulled a knife. It was clear only she could see, but when Clary and Simon weren't looking, she followed the group into the room.

* * *

The demon looked at the girl's eyes. "What's your name?" he asked politely. For a second, he wondered why a human – a _mundane_ – would be breaking rules. Then again, rules were meant to be broken. The girl was breath-taking. It was as if he were under a trance.

"Isabelle," she replied, her voice soft and warm.

"Do you come here often?" Sometimes demons came here – the Eidolons, he meant – because Eidolons were so hard to be recognised as a demon, really. Considering his hair, the demon blended into reality in this place. The girl laughed as if it was a joke.

"Me? No, not really." She raised a hand as her sleeve rolled down. The demon immediately noticed a matrix of lines on her wrist – not a bracelet – and Isabelle sent him back flying with such a force that any normal human would be on the floor, begging for innocence. Not the demon. He was just shocked. "Come on, boys."

Two hooded figures approached the demon. One of them with purely brilliant golden eyes approached the demon, cowering in the back of the room, holding a blade.

"Got you," he said, and chuckled.

* * *

I could hear voices immediately as I entered the room. Male voices, a female voice. I approached the scene. Three figures, two wearing black hoods, the breath-taking girl from before were surrounding a figure. The blue-haired boy who had followed the beautiful one, was cowering against the wall. In the girl's hand was a whip, coiled on the floor. She was gripping it, her fingers burning red by how much she was gripping it, but she didn't seem to notice.

"So," said a male voice, "you still haven't said if there's any others of your kind with you." Your kind? I was getting confused. That was when Clary suddenly appeared, her foot tangled in wires. I pulled her, and she hissed quietly because I was pulling quite hard. Luckily, she got free. I motioned her to be quiet, but Clary was Clary. She was never quiet.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the boy on the floor rasped, his voice on edge.

"He means demons. You do know what a demon is, don't you?" the dark-haired boy asked, getting annoyed with the boy.

"Demons," the blonde boy stated, "are religiously defined as hell's denziens, servants of Satan, but in purposes here, of the Clave, to be any spirit outside of their home dimension."

The blonde boy was cut off. "That's enough, Jace," the dark-haired boy said, shuffling on his feet. "No-one here needs a lesson in demonology."

The blonde boy – Jace – smiled. "Isabelle and Alec think I talk too much. Do_ you_ think I talk too much?"

"I could give you information," the boy said, desperately pleading for life. "Valuable information. Where Valentine is."

Jace growled. "Valentine is in the ground," Jace spat, agitated now. He lifted the boy's chin with his blade. "You're toying with us."

The girl called Isabelle hissed at the demon, her whip curling around her feet. "Kill it, Jace."

Jace raised his hand, and I saw the flicker of light spark off his blade, but then the bound boy gasped.

"Valentine is back! All the Infernal Worlds know it – I know it. I can tell you where he is!"

I wondered who this Valentine was. Been mentioned twice.

Anger flickered in Jace's eyes. He was pissed. "By the Angel, every damn time we capture one of you bastards, you claim to know where Valentine is. Well, we know where he is, too. He's in the ground. And you can join him there." Jace turned the blade in his grasp, but before I could stop her, Clary flew towards the scene, holding out her hand in protest.

"Stop! You can't do this!" Clary protested. The threesome and the demon looked at her like she was insane – and then I stepped out of the shadows. Generally, it wasn't every day you saw some teenagers trying to kill a demon.

"What's this?" Alec stammered. I crossed my arms across my chest, annoyed with Clary.

"They're girls," Jace said, composing his posture once more. "Surely you've seen one before, Alec. Your sister Isabelle is one," Then Jace looked away. "Mundie girls. They can see us." He said that to no-one in particular.

"Of course I can see you!" Clary yelled. "I'm not blind, you know!" I face-palmed, smacking my cheek hard. She was being an idiot, yelling like this.

Jace chuckled softly. "Oh, but you are. You just don't know it," he said softly. He looked me up and down as if he was examining me, my outfit, everything. He walked to me. "You both should get out of here, if you know what's good for you."

May I mention he had reclaimed his blade and wasn't pointing to the floor? He was pointing it at us.

"I'm not going anywhere," Clary protested, her voice strong. "If I do, you'll kill him."

"Oh? And what do you care?" Jace was demanding now. I knew that the boy bound in chains wasn't ordinary.

"Because you can't go around killing people!" Clary roared in reply.

I unfolded my arms. "Clary," I said softly, drawing attention. "That's not a person. He may look like a person and may even think like one. But in reality, that's an Eidolon demon, a shape-changer."

I was awarded – more like received – with looks of pure astonishment. Jace was the one who spoke up next.

"She's right, little girl. That is a demon," Jace hissed. "Demons walk the streets."

"Jace, shut up!" Isabelle shrieked.

Jace pointed at me. "_She _knows too much."

"I've called the police, you know," Clary started. "They'll be here any minute."

Alec, still staring at me, spoke up. "She's lying," he stuttered. "Jace."

Alec never finished his sentence. The demon boy pounced on Jace, and I immediately dodged out of the way. The Eidolon was tearing at Jace, rolling in grasp of Jace on the ground, ripping his face, his hands glinted as if rimmed with silver. Suddenly, Clary tripped around a wrap of wire, as she wanted to run. Isabelle shrieked – to who I didn't know. The demon was on top of Jace's chest, his claws spiked with blood. The boy lunged again, but before he did, an electrum cord wrapped around the demon's chest, sending him flying. He landed on the side.

Swift as a flick of Isabelle's whip, Jace rolled to face the demon, and plunged the blade into his chest, black fluids splattering everywhere. The demon's carcass folded and twisted, then as if he had exited the room, the carcass disappeared. Clary tried to run, but Isabelle's whip twisted around her wrist. I widened my eyes and went face-to-face with Isabelle.

"Hey!" I yelled, protectively. "Don't touch my sister," I growled. Jace looked at me. Some reason, he seemed surprised, but considering I was sassing Isabelle, he looked impressed.

Isabelle glared at me. "Stupid mundanes," she mumbled. "You could've got Jace killed."

"He's crazy," Clary gasped, trying to free herself from the whip. She shot me a glare. "You're all crazy. Who do you think you are, vigilante killers?" Jace suddenly was face-to-face with me.

"They return to their home dimensions when they die," Jace said. "If you wanted to know."

Alec pulled Jace back. "Be careful," he hissed, looking at Clary.

"As I said, Alec, _she knows too much,_" Jace growled in reply, pointing at me. "Look at her."

Alec studied my face for a moment. Then he nodded, as if to say, _carry on. _

"Hodge may want to see her," Jace stated. "She looks like one of us. And acts like one too. Don't you think that she knows too much already?"

Jace walked over to me. I glared at Isabelle. She let go of Clary's wrist, which had a mark around now. "Do you know of the Shadow world, little girl? Walked with warlocks, deals with demons, talked with the Night Children?"

Clary cut him off, rubbing her wrist. "Her name's not little girl. It's Raina."

Jace smirked. "Raina. Pretty name."

"And she has no idea what you're talking about," Clary replied, but she seemed hesitant. "Right, Rae? You don't know what they mean, right?"

Since when was Clary protective of me? She was my younger sister, not my mother or the oldest. I was the oldest!

I looked away as the door crashed open, Simon and one of the bouncers with him. "Clary, Rae? Where are the guys – the ones with knives?"

Clary looked at me, guilt spread on her face. "I thought they went in here. I'm sorry, it was a mistake. I'm sorry, Simon."

Behind us, Isabelle giggled.

* * *

"I don't believe it," Simon said, trying to desperately hail a cab. Clary looked at me. I knew what he was thinking.

"You'd think there'd be some cabs! Where does everyone go at midnight on Sundays?" She was trying to defuse the tension, I was sure. "Maybe we'll have some luck on Houston?"

"Not the cabs," Simon started. "You two. I don't believe you – that the guys with the knives just disappeared."

"Maybe there weren't any, Simon," Clary reminded him. "Maybe I imagined it all."

_Wrong thing to say, sis. _"Both of you?" Simon replied, clearly not fooled, more baffled. "That's even weirder. When I saw you, Clary, you looked like you had seen a ghost. And, you, Raina, you looked mad, like you weren't seeing it at all, like it was real."

I looked down. "What do you mean?" I asked, frowning.

"You looked like nothing was happening in your head. Like it was all real, and that you could easily admit it," Simon stated. I thought of Jace, with his golden eyes, staring at me, saying to Alec I knew too much.

"It was just a mistake," I said wearily. "There were no guys with knives. I'm sorry, Simon."

"One hell of an embarrassing mistake, Raina. You know we'll never be able to go in there again, right? I doubt they'll let us back in." The line was small now.

Just by luck, a cab screeched to a halt, the tyres slamming onto the road, and I winced at the sound.

"Finally we get some luck," Simon said, opening the door, sliding into the back of the plastic-coated seat. I followed Clary after. "We're going to Brooklyn."

I looked out the window, sighing. It seemed so real, but how come I could only see it?

Simon nudged Clary. "You both know you can tell me anything," he said softly, "Right?"

I gazed out of the window.

_Such a stupid mistake._

* * *

**Did you likey? It took me three hours to write and I'm happy with it, for a first chapter. I will make a cover. I'm re-reading CoB while writing this - obviously - and I spend when I'm ill writing stories and reading other fanfictions. **

**Thanks to An Anagram for Grace for her two stories, _Exist _and _Endure_! They're brilliant. Go check them out!**

**-Ana**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Ermehgerd. In two days I've had three reviews, three follows and three favourites! Ahh! Thank you to the following: Ari, a guest, Holly the Shadow Queen and Mortal Rose - I love you all! *hugs***

**Anyway I hope you enjoy this chapter, it took me a bit longer to write. Happy that America have viewed the most and UK have viewed mostly second. Thank you all! **

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own TMI.**

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Chapter #2

The next morning I was tired. I felt like I had a hangover. Clary was shaking me awake, telling me that it was nearly ten. I widened my eyes and understood. Stepping into the shower was refreshing, as the hot cascade ran down my back. After the shower I pulled on a white v-neck and black skinny jeans. I quickly put my hair in a ponytail and jumped on the couch, book in hand. I pulled out my personal phone, and I had a new text message from my service provider. Nice to show I was loved by my friends. I bit my lip and decided I was going to read on my bed, but before I did, I picked up my sketchpad for school. Grabbing a pencil, I walked into my room – our room – and sat on the bed. An image raced in my mind. When I was finished, the door to the apartment opened, and I could hear Luke's voice. Luke was an old friend of Mom's from when they were young. I got up. Standing in the kitchen was Clary, and I could see that Luke was rummaging through a plastic box on the floor. He pulled out a tape gun and he noticed me.

"Hey, Raina," he said, his voice calm. Luke was like my dad, really, because I was probably a little bit younger than a year old when my father died, so… for the amount of time I knew him, I couldn't remember anything of my father.

"Luke, what would you do if you could see something no-one else could?" I froze on the spot. Luke dropped the tape gun on the floor and bent to pick it up.

"You mean if I were the only one to witness a crime?" Luke replied. Clary was talking about last night.

"No, if there were other people around you and you were the only one who could see. Like they were invisible to everyone but you," Clary added helpfully. I drove my head into my book because I didn't want to hear the conversation. Somehow, I hadn't driven out other's voices – they were still there, floating like a bird. "I know it sounds crazy."

"Clary, you're an artist," Luke stated. Oh, so you didn't include me? I had helped pay for Clary's art classes, and I was as exceptional as our mother. "Like your mother. That means you see the world in other ways people don't. It's your gift. To see the beauty and horror in other things. It doesn't make you crazy, just different. There's nothing wrong with being different."

I was sure there was, because I was different. I had seen something that only I could see – not counting Clary here – and I had known. I had tagged along with the slayers.

"If our dad had lived, do you think he would've been an artist too?" Clary said. I knew I didn't look like my father – I didn't know whose genes I had. Luke looked at me as if I had said it, but I hadn't. Maybe he heard my sarcastic voice in his head. I didn't know.

Before Luke could answer, the door opened. Jocelyn, our mom, was standing in the frame, her beauty warm and alive in the warm August sunlight.

Our mom was slim and compact. She was beautiful. I was nearly as tall as her which probably agitated her, but she didn't complain. Today Mom was wearing paint-splattered overalls with a lavender shirt, hiking boots covering her knees.

Everyone had to say to Clary that they looked alike – I could see it. No-one said it to me, because I was so different.

"Thanks for bringing the boxes up, Luke," Mom said to Luke, who cast her a soft smile. "It took me so long to find a space. There must be millions of people at the park today."

Clary cut her off. "Mom, what are the boxes for?" Clary looked annoyed as well as suspicious. Luke flicked his eyes towards me.

"Is this about last night?" I said, apologetically. Mom looked at me.

"Maybe a bit," she said. "You shouldn't have stayed out so late. Raina, you know better. You should've been looking after Clary."

I suddenly burst into a fit of rage. "Look after her? I was doing that the whole freaking time!" I calmed my temper. "If you're grounding me, get it over and done with."

"I'm not grounding you, Raina," Mom said, a little of hurt in her voice. She looked over to Luke.

"Tell them, Jocelyn."

Mom expelled a sigh. "We're going on vacation."

Was that it? Really? "That's it?" Clary said, furious. "You're going on vacation? I don't understand the need for a big production."

"Not just me and Luke," Mom explained. "All of us. We're staying in the farmhouse."

"For how long?" I demanded.

"The rest of the summer."

Clary threw a fit. "MOM! I have plans. Tisch, Simon and I were throwing a back to school party, ten more Tisch classes, mom!"

"I'm sorry about Tisch. But the plans can be cancelled. I'm sure that Simon will understand," Mom said. I looked away, suddenly thinking of the drawing. Hadn't I drawn a symbol I saw on Jace's wrist? It was odd.

"I paid for the classes, Mom! I saved up all of the year!" She whirled on Luke, who looked upset. "Tell her it's not fair!"

"Life's not fair," I mumbled, Luke talking over me.

"Mom, I can stay here. I'm sixteen soon. I can get a job; Starbucks or something. Simon says that they're always hiring!"

"No!" The sharpness in Mom's voice made me shrink back in terror. "You're not staying here. You're too young to stay alone. Something could happen!" She looked at me like she did yesterday. She was worried for something.

Suddenly there was a crash over Clary's words. Luke had knocked down a framed picture and was picking it up. After he did so, he announced: "I'm leaving."

As he was about to walk out, Jocelyn caught his arm. "Bane," was all I caught. "His voicemail says he's in Tanzania."

"You can't carry on like this, Jocelyn," Luke hissed. "You've never been the same, but Raina isn't Jonathan. Neither is Clary."

Luke was about to exit, leaving me dazzled, when the door flew open. Simon stood there, while Luke staggered back.

"Jesus!" he exclaimed. Simon shrugged.

"Nope, just me. I've been told that the resemblance is startling."

I chuckled. "What?" I said when Jocelyn looked at me, disgusted. "He was just joking, Mom, cool down."

Luke pushed past Simon and ran down the stairs. Clary exited the house and I was about to follow when Clary literally dragged me down the stairs.

* * *

"Clary," I mumbled. "Let go of my wrist." She immediately regretted what she'd done and I could tell she had remembered last night; Izzy's whip, curling around her whip, me trying desperately to protect my kid sister. She immediately pulled away.

"Sorry," she muttered back. I saw the door of Dorothea's place open. A man with a slender build stood there and smiled, white-teeth flashing. I felt dizzy suddenly and I looked away.

Simon didn't ask. "Clary, you okay?" She looked pale, faint. "You aren't looking so good," he stated, wrapping an arm around her protectively.

"I'm just hungry, I think," Clary replied. Way to bring the anti-climax. "I need to eat."

"Alright. I'll buy you some food. Both of you," he said, looking up at me.

We stopped at a Mexican shack, where I ordered a bottle of water and a packet of Doritos. "You know, it's odd. That they sell Doritos."

Simon shook his head. "Not really," he mumbled, his mouth half-full. "There's lots of flavours." I nodded, tossing my Doritos in my bag. Clary's phone rang. She scowled when she produced it from her bag.

"Mom?" I guessed. Clary nodded and pressed the end call button. "I'll talk to her later when I'm not pissed."

Simon noted the time and he dragged us down the street. "Come on, we're going to be late for Eric's poetry reading," he said, dragging us on his heels.

* * *

We got there just in time. While Simon was ordering a coffee, Clary was making me sit elsewhere, so I sat in an orange loveseat. What I didn't realise until ten seconds later that Jace was sitting next to me. I turned my head slowly to make sure I wasn't dreaming.

"Oh, man, so it wasn't a dream? Kill me now," I muttered. "Figuratively speaking. Don't actually kill me."

"I could kill you if you wanted," Jace said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"You're a stalker. I met you yesterday, you killed someone, and now you're stalking me? What next, you're going to kill me?" Just then Jace coughed and Clary turned around. It was actually more of a cough-sneeze. I genuinely noticed she looked my direction. Jace then got up and fled. Some reason, I followed, and then Clary slammed the door of the coffee shop behind her.

"Why are you following me?" Clary demanded. I sighed and slumped against the brick wall, kicking my feet. Jace looked at me for a second – it felt like a year.

"Who said I was following _you_?" Jace replied. "Maybe I'm not. Maybe I'm following _her_." He pointed at me and I flinched. The only person who followed me was Clary.

"Why are you following us?" I hissed, teeth clenched. My fists were balled up. "Specifically, what do you want from me? If you are a rapist, I will kill you."

Jace smirked. "I'm not a rapist. I purely think you're dangerous. A weapon."

I coughed deliberately. "What the fuck? I'm not a weapon, you mindless freak!" What was he going on about? "And I'm not dangerous!" I widened my eyes. The thing I drew earlier – the weird, rhombus-shape with wings, was folded in my pocket. The mark – it was on his wrist.

I pulled it out and unfolded it, the drawing staring at me in the face. "Why am I drawing those weird tattoos of yours?" I demanded. He tore it out of my hand and looked at it.

"That's an exact representation of an Angelic rune," he said, facing the drawing still. "When did this start?" I looked away. "Tell me," he hissed. He then grabbed my wrist.

"Get off me!" I yelled. Clary looked at me – both of us – like we were insane. He held out my right palm.

On there was a black eye-shape, similar to Jace's. "You're not a mundane, are you?" Jace whispered, dropping my palm. He then walked to Clary, held out her right hand and frowned, dropping it immediately.

"You're not left handed, are you?" he said to Clary. She shook her head. "Most Shadowhunters get Marked when they're twelve. Like your sister did."

I looked at Jace. "So I have a tattoo on my hand? Great. Like Mom will really like that."

Just then, my phone started ringing. I pulled out the phone and answered it.

"Mom?" I said. A crash. "Mom?!" I was going insane – what was happening?

"Raina," I heard my mother's voice. "Look after Clary. Go to Simon's. Call Luke, tell him that he found me." She was cut off by another crash.

"Mom, who's found you? Mom!" I screamed into the receiver.

"Valentine," I heard her rasp. "I love you, Raina."

Then the call cut.

I slammed my phone on the ground, tears swelling in my eyes. I was sweating.

"Who's Valentine?" I asked Jace. He looked back, looking at me oddly.

"Why?" He hissed, his eyes glistening with wonder. He looked at me again and then I heard his soft mumble. "You… you look like Valentine."

I widened my eyes and ran off, tears brimming, streaking down my cheeks.

* * *

When I reached a stoplight, I saw a little toddler with a doll, wings sapphire blue, streaked with gold. For a moment, I thought I saw the wings flutter. I ran across the road, swiftly dodging a taxi, some cars too. When I reached the house, the lights were on.

"Thank God," I mumbled, and reached for my keys. When I got into the apartment, I screamed.

Everything was wrecked. The kitchen was torn to shred, the lounge. But the worst was Mom's paintings.

The canvas, all of them, were ripped apart, torn to the bone, as if cleaned by a knife. I staggered back. Then I saw it.

At first it looked like a bulldog. But then it changed into an oddly shaped thing, red flesh, multiple legs. It was hissing and I realised that it was talking – the hiss was forming words.

"_Girl. Flesh. To eat, oh, to eat._" I staggered backwards, clutching a tube. What was it called? _Ariel. _

"Get away from me," I cried, my voice barely a whisper.

"_Bones. To suck out the marrow,_" it carried on, the voice echoing through the house. "_Valentine said nothing about a girl. Valentine will never be angry._"

I lifted the blade. "Ariel," I muttered. It was glowing. "Ariel!" It grew into a long blade, one like Jace had last night. I charged as the thing lunged for me, and I shoved the blade in its back. Black blood splattered on my clothes. I screamed as it folded, throwing its tail at me, hitting my throat, and I groaned as it disappeared. I collapsed on the floor, breathing heavily.

* * *

I woke up, my head heavy. I could faintly hear sirens, and I looked at my hand. Black fluids. The demon's blood. No, not blood. Ichor. I could see Jace in front of me, and someone was holding my free hand. Clary.

"Where am I?" I said groggily. Bloody hell, I could barely move. I couldn't even recognise my surroundings.

"You got hurt," Jace said softly, holding a thick metal object. _Stele_, I thought immediately. "But you killed that demon."

I sat up and immediately gagged. "That was a demon?" I rasped, my throat closing up.

"A Ravener, to be precise. It got you in throat. Half-dead, but still a sting."

I coughed, putting my hand to my mouth, and when I pulled away, I whimpered. Blood was on my hand, and I coughed violently, blood splattering on Jace's face. He flinched away.

"Jesus, woman, don't kill yourself."

"A demon stung me and you're trying to joke about it?" I frowned. "You dickhead," I mumbled. I felt a sting on my arm, and when I looked at it, there was a black mark. My throat was closing up, and I felt a scream trying to escape as I fell through the darkness.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed! I had fun writing this chapter! I think I'll reveal why Raina knows so much in a few chapters, but for now, bye! **

**-Ana**


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